


the dumbest mission- curtwen edition

by ailiyasneski



Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Humor, M/M, a of these come out of the saf discord, an lgbt slur so beware, curt’s a dumbass, have fun, honestly why, owen’s a little shit, susan’s done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 09:36:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18797719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ailiyasneski/pseuds/ailiyasneski
Summary: a recount of the dumbest thing curt and owen did while on a mission. there is an lgbt slur in here, so don’t read if it’s triggering.





	the dumbest mission- curtwen edition

**Author's Note:**

  * For [the saf discord](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=the+saf+discord).



> god i really need a life

curt mega, you fool. 

it was a simple mission: go in, get the files from susan, get out. they had to dress up, but that was about the only bad thing about it. suits and ties, and curt with a bow tie instead. they were, supposedly, nazi sympathizers from the War, and they were at the party to help support the cause. bullshit. 

so, there they were, standing awkwardly in the corner where the champagne was held, looking for susan. a sip every now and again, and then four glasses later owen and curt were slightly tispy. well, curt was. he always handled his alcohol poorly- owen on the other hand was fine. 

suddenly, curt spoke up. “lovely champagne huh? you taste the hint of cherry?” code- susan’s here (the cherry was his favorite pie flavor). 

“i do,” owen replied. he started tapping on the table behind them, morse code. ‘how are we going to get to Susan?’

‘what’d you mean?’ curt tapped back. 

‘i mean’, owen sighed out loud. ‘he’s across the room and we can’t just leave.’

curt didn’t reply for a while. owen had thought he might’ve just didn’t hear the tapping, but one look st his lovely face and owen knew he was just thinking. 

“follow my lead,” curt said, grabbing owen hand, leading him out of their nice corner. 

“what are you doing?” owen whispered. 

“improvising,” curt shot back. when they got to the center of the ballroom, curt snapped into acting. “honey, come on, don’t leave!” he whined, cueing owen in. act offended.

owen jumped in. “god, just let me be! you know, honestly i can’t believe you’d just-“ he never got to finish his bullshitted argument, because curt kissed him. kissed him right in the middle of a nazi ballroom party with no idea what that could do to them. and god, he wanted to kiss back. he wanted to wrap his arms around curt, and kiss him until they ran out of breath. but as the seconds passed, he remembered why they were there. he pulled back (unfortunately) and did the only reasonable thing a not homosexual man would do: he smacked curt across the face, the impact sounding across the room. he locked eyes with susan, who rolled his eyes. “well, i outa- security! see this man outside!” owen boomed. he looked back at curt’s stunned face and smirked. “i’m gonna teach you a lesson, faggot,” 

he hated saying that word, but he had to if he was to pull his act off. susan leaped to action, taking him and curt outside the ballroom though a back door. as soon as the door shut, curt slapped owen back. 

“what the hell?” owen shrieked, holding his cheek. 

“you had to add the slur? really?” curt asked, clearly offended. 

“boys-“ susan was cut off by owen’s rebuttal. 

“you know i never meant it, love, it’s part of the act,” 

“act my ass,” 

owen sighed, putting a hand on curt’s chest. “i swear, i didn’t mean it,” 

curt gave him a glare, than after a moment let it go. “i know, i just- i hate it,” 

“i know, i’m sorry,” owen apologized, kissing curt lightly. 

susan cleared his throat. “still here, fellas,” 

they parted, and curt blushed. “sorry, Susan,”

Susan nodded, getting the folders out from his suit’s breast pocket. “the next half of the mission is in these files- you’ll start tomorrow,” 

owen nodded. “thanks,” owen looked at the door, then an idea popped in his head. “curt, punch me in the face,” 

he was taken aback. “what?” 

“punch me in the face,” owen repeated. “i said we would fight- i want to make it look like we did,”

“owen, darling, i’m not punching you,” 

“fine,” owen said. he turned and slammed his head against the door. curt screamed. “calm down! it’s fine!” owen yelled back. okay, so his head may have been killing him, but whatever. 

“what the hell?” curt raised his voice. 

“if you don’t punch me, i’ll do it myself!” 

curt rushed to his side, putting his hands to owen’s cheeks. “owen, if you’re going to look beat up, punch your arm,” 

always count on curt to tell you how to beat yourself up. dumbass. 

owen didn’t have a choice though. he nodded, and punched his left arm. “fuck!” he hissed. he decided making his head bleed was better- he went back to that, doing it a couple more times to add some luck before curt stopped him again. 

“do it harder, i want to make it look like i won,” owen glared. “sorry,” 

after one more good slam, owen felt something warm trickle down his forehead. blood, he assumed. “alright, how do i look?” he asked, turning to face susan and his boyfriend. 

“like you lost a fight,” susan deadpanned. 

“perfect!” he exclaimed. he turned to curt, who was shaking his head. “meet you back at the hotel, love,” he gave a quick peck to curt’s lips, then opened the door, susan following behind him, pretend fixing his suit jacket like he just broke up a pretend fight.


End file.
